


Vulnerability

by SnorkleShit



Series: Lovability [1]
Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Abused!Ezekiel, Angst, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Childhood, De-Aged, Emotional Abuse, Family Feels, Gen, Jenkins is really good with kids actually, Sexual Abuse, Starvation, Young!Ezekiel, team as a family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-06-03 20:47:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6625663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnorkleShit/pseuds/SnorkleShit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an artifact turns Ezekiel into his thirteen year old self, the others are expecting to deal with a mischievous pre-teen kleptomaniac.</p><p> What they get, however, is a terrified, battered, and self hating boy who keeps his distance even more than his adult counterpart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rewind

**Author's Note:**

> This is only going to be a few short chapters.

“He’s _what_?” Baird exclaimed. Flynn sighed in exasperation, having to explain this for the third time.

“He touched a temporal globe and temporarily shifted his variable point in the space time continuum, but since we’re in an inter dimensional space that's governed by-” The Librarian spoke at a mile a minute, hands gesturing wildly. Despite how obvious his words seemed to him, the others all just stared at him. Even Cassandra looked confused as she tried to quantify what he was saying mathematically. 

“What he means,” Jenkins interrupted finally, not able to bear it anymore. “Is that Mr. Jones unwittingly de-aged himself. He has been returned to the body and mind of his pre-teenage self, as you can see.” Jenkins explained, gesturing to the child that was sleeping on one of the couches in the Reading Room. 

“But it's only temporary, he won't be affected at all in the long run.” Flynn clarified.

“ _How_ temporary?” Stone asked, glancing with a disturbed expression over at the miniature Ezekiel. 

“Not too long, I've estimated between a few days and week, at most. Now, I have an important mission to go on, and since Eve is required for Guardian purpose to guard me-” Flynn announced. 

Jenkins huffed. “Yes, that's the only reason.” He muttered. Flynn carried on as if he hadn't heard him. 

“The two of you should refrain from going out on missions for the time being, to make sure nothing happens to Mini-Thief. He cannot move from the Library, or he’ll be lost in all of space and time. Not that there isn't plenty to do here in the meantime.” Flynn added, gesturing to the Library.

With that, Eve and Flynn took their leave. Stone watched them go with a frown.

“They get to go off having a romantic adventure and we get to babysit an imp.” He said bitterly. Jenkins made a noise of agreement, and stood. 

“He’s not an imp, he looks like he’s thirteen, maybe twelve. He’d already be in middle school by then.” Cassandra countered.

“Middle school Ezekiel is beyond a doubt, an _imp._ ” Jake replied. 

“It is probably best if we move Mr. Jones into the annex. Whenever he wakes up, I do not want him in a library full of priceless and dangerous artifacts. Oh, God. I have to childproof the Annex, don't I?” Jenkins lamented. 

“When will he wake up?” Cassandra asked, walking to the couch to peer down at the sleeping child.

“The temporal shift took a great toll, he should wake up in a few hours, I imagine. But until then he's down for the count, it would be fruitless to attempt to wake him.” Jenkins explained. 

“Will one of you strapping young people please be so kind as to carry our young friend while I go ahead and begin preparations?” He asked. Stone sighed and kneeled to scoop the kid up. The younger version of their fellow Librarian didn't even stir. 

“Awwwe, he looks so sweet and innocent! Were you that cute as a kid, Jake?” Cassandra asked as she walked alongside him. Jake huffed.

“For one thing, even at his regular age, Ezekiel is still a kid in my book. A bratty, selfish little troublemaker, who I seriously doubt was ever considered innocent a day in his life. Can you imagine what a pest he's gonna be when he wakes up?” Stone lamented. Cassandra grimaced.

“Well, I'm sure we can keep a handle on him. Maybe we should buy one of those kid leashes.” 

“He's like ten, not four!” Jake replied. Cassandra gave him a pointed look.

“Knowing him, he's going to be bouncing off the walls worse than a toddler.” Cassandra said.

“Oh, christ. I'm gonna get gray hairs over this, aren't I?” Jake groaned. 

\--------

The next hour or so was spent taking all the delicate, dangerous or valuable items out from the main part of the Annex and storing them in safer locations, while miniature Ezekiel still snoozed away on an ancient looking futon sort of furniture piece that Jenkins had pulled out of nowhere. 

After they were satisfied with the state of things, Jake and Cassandra took a seat around the table while Jenkins went off to make them some tea.

“I'm still mad they get to go out. I mean, Eve’s the Guardian, not us.” Jake stated.

“Well, yeah. But with all of us being a team and there being only one Guardian, don't you think it's important that we take care of each other, too?” Cassandra asked.

“Well, yeah, I think we’re a team and we should look out for each other. It just rubs me the wrong way that we’ve gotta babysit him, when you know he wouldn’t stick around if it was us.” Jake said, with a dissatisfied huff. Cassandra tilted her head at him a little, giving him a look like she knew something he didn't. Which she usually did, with that beautiful mind of hers. 

“Oh, come on. I know you know better than that.” Cassandra chided softly. He looked over, into her eyes, like pools of clear water drawing you in. His shoulders sagged slightly, and he looked away again. He folded his hands under his arms. 

“Yeah, you’re right. That's what he would _want_ me to think he’d do, though.” Jake countered. Cassandra nodded.

“Well, no argument there. But I think…” Cassandra paused, head bowing a little in thought, inclined towards the direction of the couch and the young sleeping thief.

“What?” Jake asked softly. Cassandra’s eyes moved to address him, and they were thoughtfully sad.

“I think leaving this place...losing the Library would be horrible. For all of us. I mean, losing everything. But...sometimes I think, it would do nothing short of ruin Ezekiel. He keeps saying he’ll leave, he’ll bail when he's bored. But we know he never will. And I pray to god nothing ever makes him, because I don't think he’d be able to move on like the rest of us eventually might. Besides Flynn, of course.” Cassandra shrugged over her thoughts. Jake considered what she was saying, mind weighed down as it followed her train. He opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off when a sound pulled both their heads towards the couch they’d set out. 

Young Ezekiel had woken up groaning, and now was sitting up to rub his head with a whimper. Jake and Cassandra turned back to each other for a moment, trying to mentally each decide what to do.

They rose in a synchronized movement, and the boy noticed their presence, turning to stare at them. Jake and Cassandra froze, staring. Something about the young version of Ezekiel had changed while they’d been talking, while the transformation had been reaching it’s last leg.

He was covered in cuts and bruises. His lip was split, one of his eyes was black. He was looking at them with utter, unadulterated fear in his eyes. 

“Of course!” Cassandra whispered. Jake turned to look at her, confused.

“What? What happened?” He hissed.

“He’s been shifted through the continum, but grounded here by the library. His body and possibly his mind have been reverted to his younger self, but the Library is keeping him here, in this pocket dimension.” She explained.

“I kinda gathered most of that. Why’s he all bruised?” Jake asked, getting impatient. 

“Because, it didn’t just revert him to his general state, it reverted him exactly to the body he had at some point in time, when he was a kid. We don’t know what point in time that is, but it means if he had bruises then, he has them now.” Cassandra explained. Jake nodded, understanding. Sort of.

“Who are you?” Came a feeble voice. They both turned back to look at the battered boy on the couch. He looked terrified, eyes flicking between them in confusion. Oh, this wasn’t going to be fun.

“We’re….you’re friends!” Cassandra replied, clapping her hands together. The boy flinched at her movement, cowering into the cushion of the couch. She froze, and lowered her hands, exchanging another glance with Jake. 

“I don’t have friends...what do you want!” The kid exclaimed, glaring at them with daggers of mistrust. Then his eyes started to roam their surroundings, widening in confusion. “What is this place! Are you friends with my father?” He asked. Jake and Cassandra turned to look at each other, both thinking the same thing. That was probably a better explanation than magic. 

“Uh, yeah, we are! He had to take care of some stuff so he’s letting us hang out with you for a while.” Jake explained, offering the boy a smile. The boy’s eyes widened, in utter horror, and his lip trembled as tears filled his eyes. Cassandra moved forward, heart wrenching, and Jake wondered what on Earth he’d said wrong. 

“Hey, hey, don’t cry! Everything’s-” She started to say, but he jumped up from the couch, and scrambled to get behind it, putting the piece of furniture between them. 

“Stay away from me!” He exclaimed, visibly swallowing, and clenching his jaw. But his eyes betrayed how afraid he was, as if they were going to do something horrible to him. Jake and Cassandra froze, confused and uncertain. 

“We aren’t going to hurt you, we promise.” Cassandra told him, raising her hands to appear non-threatening. Young Ezekiel’s wide eyes flicked between them. 

“I don’t care what he owes you! I won’t do anything you want! Let me go!” He shouted, whole body starting to shake. 

“We aren’t going to make you do anything, besides maybe calm down.” Jake said, trying to piece together the information they were being given. Apparently, for some reason, claiming to know his father hadn’t been the right move. Based on his fear of them and the bruises that covered their de-aged friend, Jake had a sudden nauseous feeling about what kind of man this father was. 

Ezekiel’s face screwed up. “Don’t try and lie to me! You think i’m stupid or something? I’m not some dumb toddler you can lure into a van with candy and promises, asshole!” The pre-teen shouted angrily, hot tears in his eyes finally spilling over. 

“We swear, we aren’t going to hurt you, we aren’t going to do anything. We just want to keep you safe. Do you like movies? We’ve got a nice theatre here!” Cassandra attempted, voice earnest and face open. Ezekiel stared at how innocent the woman looked, slightly confused by how sincere she sounded. But then his eyes hardened against her. 

“You’re a good actor, lady. I’ve seen enough movies to know that.” He spat. He had a steel in him, and it disturbed the two Librarians. He was so young, but he had a look in his eyes like he’d been forged in fire and wasn’t afraid to cut. 

“Okay, seriously, we need to cut the crap, Cassandra. We should just tell him the truth, lying about his dad was a bad move.” Jake sighed. She turned to him, frowning thoughtfully on how to sell the truth over the more plausible lie. The boy narrowed his eyes at them.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He demanded. Cassandra turned to him.

“Hey, language, young man!” She said. Jake looked at her in confusion, and she blushed.

“Sorry! He just looks so young…” She shrugged.

“What the hell is going on here? Tell me the truth!” Ezekiel demanded, and started to look around for anything to use as a weapon. Jake stepped forward to stand closer, and raised his hands in a peaceful manner. 

 

“We aren’t friends with your dad. We said that, because we didn’t know what you would think if we told you the truth. The truth is, the year is 2016, and you’re 26 years old and you’re our very close friend.” Jake explained calmly. This earned a long moment of silence, as Ezekiel stared at him, looking him up at down.

“Haven’t they ever told you not to get high off of your own supply?” The boy said frankly. Jake shook his head.

“What- i’m not high. And i’m not a drug dealer or a gang member or whatever your dad is. I’m a Librarian. We all are.” Jake said, gesturing between the three of them. Cassandra decided to step in.

“Magic is real, and a big special place that protects magical and dangerous items invited us all to work here. You accidentally got effected by a magical object that turned you back to your younger self, but it’s temporary. You’re really 26, and you’re a world class thief, and you work here with us to save the world. Every day, twice before friday. You’re very very smart, and very happy here. We’re very happy to have you here. We promise, we’re telling the truth, we’re your friends.” She said gently, with a proud and loving smile. The boy stared at her, face betraying confusion as he tried to wrap his brain around what she was telling him. Then his disbelieving eyes flicked to Jake, and then back to her.

“So...you’re saying...magic is real?” He asked. They both nodded. His eyes narrowed, and he raised his chin.

“Prove it!” He demanded. Cassandra turned to Jake, who turned and started looking for the nearest magical object that was relatively harmless. And then he stopped, stood straight, and grinned. He put his hands around his mouth. 

“Excalibur, come!” He called. Cassandra smiled. There was a moment of nothingness, and then a gleaming sword came whipping through the Back Door, and halted at attention next to Jake, and started to spurt around, playfully dashing around the room. Ezekiel’s eyes widened in awe, and he watched in amazement as the sword flew around the room.

“That’s Excalibur.” He said dumbly. 

“Yup.” Cassandra said happily, rocking back on her heels a little bit. 

“It flies.” Ezekiel said, in the same dumbstruck tone.

“He does that.” Jake responded, watching the boy, waiting to gauge his reaction.

“He?” Ezekiel asked, frowning, but not taking his eyes off of the sword. 

\------------

“So...my father _didn’t_ sell me out to you guys. You’re not part of Arin’s gang.” Ezekiel asked slowly, after they’d finished explaining some of the more scientific aspects of how he’d become his younger self, and told him he couldn’t leave the Library. 

“No. We’ve never even met your father, we don’t even know who Arin or whoever is. We’re Librarians.” Cassandra confirmed. Ezekiel was still behind the couch, still putting his distance and a piece of furniture between them. Ezekiel looked around the Annex, instead of at them.

“Librarians...and they get chosen? By a big...magic...special Library?” He asked.

“It’s a very prestigious position. Only very special people get chosen.” Cassandra said, nodding. Ezekiel turned to look at her, looking even more confused.

“And...I was chosen?” He asked. Cassandra nodded.

“Exactly!” 

The young and battered version of Ezekiel shook his head, looking away from them. “That makes less sense than the magic part. So you want me to just...believe you? And just sit here, and wait to turn back into an adult?” He asked incredulously.

Jake shrugged, and smiled at the kid. “Well, yeah, basically. But there’s lots of fun stuff to do around here while we wait.” He replied. Ezekiel frowned down at the floor, and glanced up at him. 

“Even if magic is real...how am I supposed to trust you about the rest? How do I know i’m not some kid you kidnapped to do weird cult shit to for magic reasons? There’s no way a magical LIbrary would pick me, i’m not special. I’m nobody. I’m a good for nothing piece of shit and there’s no way i’d be invited to some magic secret hero club.” He muttered, crossing his arms. He talked about himself matter of factly, with the air as if he was repeating a fact he’d been told over and over. 

Jake and Cassandra once again looked at each other in concern. This was not what they’d been expecting.


	2. Dreaming

It took what felt like forever to convince the young Ezekiel that they had not, in fact, kidnapped him for some nefarious purpose. They finally got Ezekiel to sit down, but his version of sitting down was perching on the top of the couch and making them back up all the way across the room. He glared at them consistently, still suspicious, as they showed him various magical artifacts as way of entertainment. His trustless glower was occasionally interrupted by wonder, awe and amazement.

A few hours later, Cassandra entertained their young friend with stories about which legends were real and which weren't, while Jake snuck off to the kitchens to make them all lunch.

He brought in a large tray of cheese, ham and tomato sandwiches for all of them, alongside bowls of tomato soup. He set his and Cassandra’s down on Eve’s desk, and then carefully approached the other side of the room. The boy tensed more and more, the closer he got. Jake set the plate and bowl down on the far side of the round table, close to Ezekiel, before carefully retreating to stand next to Cassandra. Cassandra had already started in on her sandwich.

The boy eyed the food for a moment, before he wrapped his arms around himself and pointedly turned his head away. He had a bit of resignation about him as he did it. 

“Oh, come on, you can't tell me you’re not hungry. You’re always hungry. I've seen you drop food and still eat it more than a few times.” Jake said, waving at the food in an urging matter. The boy turned to look him up and down, face twisted up, as if Jake were being stupid. 

“I can't.” He said, slightly confused.

“What do you mean you can't?” Jake inquired. Ezekiel looked down at the food again, and his expression turned distant. His eyes held the same sadness that an animal locked in a cage radiated. 

“I'm not allowed.” He offered, as way of explanation. As if they should know this already. 

“Not allowed to _eat?_ ” Cassandra said in sudden horror. Jake felt his blood run cold. The young teenager tightened his embrace of himself, eyes hesitating to look between the system E and them. 

“No, just...not allowed without permission.” He clarified, as if the explanation pained him to be given. It seemed young Ezekiel abhorred openness, much like his older counterpart.

“Permission? From whom?” Jake asked, frowning, as his mind had already decided upon an expectable answer. Ezekiel diverted his eyes away again.

“My father.” He said, and Jake clenched his jaw. But he knew looking angry would scare the boy more, so he forced himself to relax.

“Well, your dad ain't here right now.” Jake pointed out. He gave Ezekiel a reassuring smile. Ezekiel shocked his head with more of a fever. 

“No, no, he’ll know. Trust me, I've tried before. He always knows.” Pretend Ezekiel muttered, shaking his head as he was riddled with fear and remorse. As if recalling the times he had tried before, he reached to rub the hand shaped bruises that were prominent around his neck. 

Jake and Cassandra looked to one another, horror and concern edging their facets. They were both sick to their stomachs. 

“We promise, he won't know. You’re safe here. Nothing - nobody is going to hurt you here.” Cassandra said earnestly. Ezekiel glanced at her, surveying her sincerity. Then his sharp eyes flicked with huger towards the sandwich, then all around. Weighing his options. Then he got up, as if to move towards the food. Suddenly, fear twisted his features, and he quickly sat back down, bowing and shaking his head. Jake stared at him, trying not to show how horrified he was.

The stubborn, carefree Ezekiel Jones he knew never let anyone tell him what to do. Even when it was an important plan, he had often gone off and done his own thing with little regard to what he’d been told. It had driven Jake crazy, it was one of his least favorite things about the thief. His refusal to follow orders just because. 

But now it was clear, that had not always been the case. And it was extremely disturbing. Although, it made sense. For Ezekiel to be hiding some horrifically abusive childhood behind his selfish, devil-may-care attitude. A very sad sense. 

Jake's father has been a complete asshole, and he'd shoved Jake around once in a drunken blue moon, but had never done anything of real physical damage. No, the damage had always been of a far more emotional aspect. 

Jake’s mind rewound, to all the times he’d shoved Ezekiel around. Mostly in a good natured way. But occasionally in animosity. Like when they’d first met, when the Serpent Brotherhood had broken in. He’d had every right to confront Ezekiel…but still, with the new knowledge of Ezekiel’s past, Jake felt bile rise in his throat. 

He thought back to the times in Peru when they had argued, and Jake remembered shoving Ezekiel back, trying to instigate something akin to fisticuffs, trying to get the other Librarian to actually confront the issue instead of flippantly writing him off. Ezekiel hadn't rose to the challenge, he'd just walked away. Ezekiel never rose to a fight, unless it was with a bad guy. Even then, his go-to moves were running away or jumping on their back and going dead weight. Ezekiel had said he didn't “do punchy” because he valued his hands. Which made sense. But perhaps it was more than that. 

Jake and Cassandra decided to drop the subject of food, and bring it up again later. Instead, they spent their time convincing the young version of Ezekiel to join them in the theatre room. But he would only go with them if they sat across the aisle, as far away from him as possible. Only then would he settle into a seat. They had to call their movie selection over to him. Since it was the future, to his memories, at least, none of them rang a bell to him. They decided on the new Star Trek reboot, which a hesitant Ezekiel agreed to. 

Ezekiel quickly became enraptured in the film, while the two older Librarians spent most of the time watching him watch the movie.

“I feel kind of dumb for not thinking about this sooner.” Cassandra confided in a hushed tone.

“You’re telling me. I kinda thought he was an orphan. You know, like Flynn Ryder.” Jake muttered.

“When normal Ezekiel gets back, I'm telling him you compared him to a Disney Prince.” Cassandra snickered. 

“This is serious!” Jake whisper yelled at her in disapproval. Cassandra sobered up, and their gazes returned to the boy curled up in a seat as far from them as possible.

“What if we can't get him to eat? We don't know how long he's going to be like this. What if he's used to starving? Do you think that's why Ezekiel eats all the time today?” Cassandra murmured. 

“I’m sure we’ll get him to eat... Maybe we should get him what he likes.” Jake said, eyes widening against the light of a light bulb sparking above his head. Her inclined himself towards Cassandra slightly.

“How about I sneak away, and go get double cheese pizza for him? Can you hold down the fort?” Jake asked. Cassandra blinked at him. 

“Do you think I can hold down the fort?” She asked, words carrying weight that did not require any further emphasis, as it struck the cords of their relationship loud and clear. Jake swallowed, glancing towards Ezekiel, and then back towards her. He gave her a soft, remorseful, distant smile.

“I think you can. So i’m going to go, call me if you do need me.” He said. She nodded at attention, glancing towards Ezekiel as Jake stood and walked towards the door. The boy tensed at the movement, and watched Jake go, and stared at the door for a few long minutes after he was gone. Then he slowly sank back into his chair, eyes roaming to fixate on Cassandra. Cassandra gave him an upbeat, soft smile, hoping she appeared as unthreatening as possible.

There was a thriving pulse of a now familiar tension. Cassandra fiddled with her thumbs, letting Jake’s absence fade into the norm before deciding to venture stirring things up again.

“Ezekiel?” She called, clearly but as gently as she could. The boy still flinched, however, and his sharp eyes flicked to look her up and down. She smiled again.

“Jake went to get pizza. We know how much you love it.” She called. The boy’s eyes widened, more in confusion than in anything else.

“I’ve never had pizza in my life.” He said, wide eyes shrinking in the next phase of confusion. He furrowed his brow at her, as if suspicious of something she was attempting to pull over on him. She blinked at him. 

“What? Never? Older you absolutely loves it. It’s your favorite food. I’m pretty sure most of your salary goes towards pizza.” She informed him, grinning in affection as she thought about her friend and his eating habits. She found it cute, to be frank. 

The boy shuffled slightly, giving her considerate but incredulous looks. Then he just shook his head and wrapped his arms tighter around himself. He looked directly ahead instead of at her.

“It doesn’t matter. I can’t eat it.” He said sternly. Cassandra’s heart sank a little. The sound of space battles and the pressure between them was all that filled the space for a while.

“Can I come sit a little closer? Not right next to you, but, maybe, halfway?” Cassandra called. The boy glared at her, but shrugged, as if giving a blessing but trying not to take responsibility for it. Some things never changed, Cassandra supposed. 

She took that blessing, mistrusting nonchalance and all, and rose from her seat to move halfway down the row. He got even tenser as she approached, if that was even possible. She settled in the seat and let the movie move on a bit longer, before she made another move.

“So, what’s your father like?” She asked. Ezekiel kept staring at the movie. 

“If you know older me, wouldn’t you already know?” He asked. Cassandra gave a quirk of her eyebrows at that.

“You aren’t very open. You try very hard to make everyone see only one side of you.” She explained. This gained the boy’s attention, and his gaze turned to her with slight interest.

“Really?” He asked softly. She nodded, and gave him a sad smile.

“I mean, I can understand why, a little. Especially from what I know now. But sometimes, especially recently…” Cassandra looked away to the distance. “We try not to pry. Respect and courtesy are important in relationships. We all have things to hide, things to hold back. We all have different reasons. But...the rest of us, you could say, have been a little more forthcoming. Or a lot forthcoming. I guess what i’m trying to say is…” She shrugged. “Sometimes, when you open up to someone, but they don’t budge back...it feels like you’ve just laid out your soul and they just gave a thumbs up, does that make sense?” She asked, turning back to him.

The younger version of Ezekiel stared at her, and she could see the cogs turning in his mind. Her own eyes were drawn to the black eye that swelled against his normal skin tone. 

“But, then again. Everyone has their reasons.” She added. Ezekiel looked down at his shoes.

“What do you think mine are? Older me.” He asked. 

“Well, i’m not one to make assumptions,” She pondered, cocking her head. “But...I think that you’re afraid. You don’t think we care about you as much as you care about us. But we do, we really do. I try to show it as much as I can.” She told him, watching as he mulled over what she was saying. 

“I think this is all a dream.” He admitted, after a time to think. She blinked and turned a bit, to that. 

“What? Why?” She asked.

“Because it’s too good to be true.” He said lowly. “I have dreams like this all the time. Well, not as weird as this. And not as realistic. But, I have dreams sometimes. Where someone comes and whisks me away from my dad. Sometimes they're a long lost family member. Sometimes they’re some magical wizard or a superhero, and they love me, and won’t hurt me, and want to show me how great I really am. But all those dreams end the same.” He explained, a tragic, resigned air to him.

Cassandra felt her chest ache. “And how is that?” 

“They realize i’m not worth it. And then something bad happens. They throw me out. Or sometimes, they turn into my dad, and it was really all a trick so he could show me how worthless I am.” Ezekiel muttered. Cassandra twisted her fingers in her shirt, a hatred beginning to grow in her heart for this man.

“You’re not worthless. Is that what he tells you?” She asked softly. He tightened his grip on himself. His silence spoke it’s answer, and she felt a great sadness overtake her on her friend’s behalf. 

“He works hard.” Came a soft voice.  
“Doing what?” Cassandra asked. An innocent enough question.

“Things the law wouldn’t agree with.” Ezekiel said, and Cassandra nodded in understanding. 

“When you first came here, you were very upset, and you thought your father had sent you. Why was that?” She dared to press. Ezekiel shifted uncomfortably, and his lip started to tremble. He bit it to quell the movement. 

“I never get things right, I always screw things up...he says i’m a burden, that nobody loves me, not even him. And he’s right. Sometimes, when he’s really mad at me, he lends me to his friends. They make me clean and stuff, do whatever they want, or they just hurt me. The last time...it was bad. And i’ve been trying so hard. I brought in more money in the last few months than I had in years...and he was proud of me, he told me I was doing a good job. That’s why when I woke up here, I was so afraid...i’d managed to screw up my first lucky streak in…well, ever.” Ezekiel explained, voice tormented with emotional weight that his older counterpart would never have allowed. Cassandra’s gut tied itself in horror and sympathy at the images Ezekiel’s words conjured up. 

“You aren’t worthless. You’re one of the most amazing people I know. Everyone here, at the Library, we love you. And not just older you. We love this you, too. We love every you. Unconditionally.” Cassandra said earnestly, leaning over the edge of her seat to cast her voice more clearly across the seats that divided him. Ezekiel squeezed his eyes shut against her words, turning his head away. 

She leaned back into her seat, and sighed, letting the silence return. She’d worn her welcome in the doorway of his soul, and sensed it was time to let the matter rest. For now.

As the movie carried on, out of the corner of her eye, Cassandra saw Ezekiel reach up and pinch himself. She did not comment on it.


	3. Wonder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team works hard to get Ezekiel to trust them, and Cassandra is surely going to die from the boy's cuteness.

The credits rolled on the movie, so Cassandra and Ezekiel returned to the Annex to wait for Jake.

“So, magic is real…” Ezekiel said, running his fingers around the round table. Cassandra watched him, as she sat on the bottom of the staircase. 

“Do dragons exist?” The boy asked. Cassandra smiled, nodding.

‘Yes. You’ve met them. You got the best of one that was trying to do bad things, actually.” Cassandra told him. Ezekiel blinked up at her.

“What? Me? I beat a dragon?” He asked in surprise. Cassandra tilted her head.

“Well, verbally. It was a rather political situation.” She explained. He stared at her, and then looked away. 

“Dragon politics. That’s...weird.” He said, drinking in the information.

“Pretty much every second of our lives is weird.” Cassandra said with a smile. “And I know that none of us would have it any other way. We all chose this life.” She said, with a tinge of nostalgic pride. Her last sentence brought his eyes back to her, with a deeper edge of shock to them. Strange, she hadn’t said anything particularly revolutionary.

“We chose?” He asked. She blinked.

“Of course we did.” She replied, a bit confused as to why that was so surprising. But then she remembered his father, and his refusal to eat without permission. Her face fell, as she watched him stand their looking blown away. A deep sadness settled in her guts. 

“Ezekiel,” She said, softly. “Does your father…dictate everything?” She asked. He stared at her.

“What do you mean?” The boy still seemed to be reeling.

“He chooses when and what you eat, right? What else does he choose? What you wear? What you do?” She asked. 

“Obviously.” He stated, and frowned as if she was asking a stupid question. 

“And what does he tell you to do?” She asked. He furrowed his eyebrows at her.

“What i’m supposed to do.” Came the answer.

“All the time? All hours of the day? Do you do anything on your own, do you do anything because you want to?” She prodded. His face hardened.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” He said, suddenly standing a little straighter. He crossed his arms. “But you don’t understand.” 

“What don’t I understand?” She asked. Ezekiel looked down at his shoes, shaking his head.

“He’s _helping_ me! You think he’s so bad, but that’s only because you think i’m good.” He muttered. Cassandra’s heart twisted, threatening to tear apart, and she stood with feverish anguish written across the language of her body.

“You _are!_ ” Cassandra countered with an ache in her words. Just then, Jake sauntered in the door, with two steaming pizza boxes. He froze upon realizing the tension in the room. Ezekiel’s hand balled into fists, and his lips trembled.Then he steeled himself, raising his chin a bit. He look more sure of himself, more certain than he had since being reverted to this age. 

“You only think _I’m_ good because you know future me! But…” He swallowed visibly. “Future me is only good because of what my father did for him! I’m the work in progress, your amazing and awesome _friend_ is the end result. So stop assuming things about something you just don’t understand!” He said, voice cracking slightly. He seemed uncertain again for a split moment, afraid to talk to two adults with such self-assurance, but then he clenched his jaw and stuck to his statement. 

Jake looked alarmed, glancing at Cassandra. The redhead was staring at the little boy, with sad eyes, but it was obvious her mind was running a marathon. It was remarkably ironic that the only time Ezekiel seemed confident at all was in defending his own abuser. Jake bit the inside of his cheek, unsure of what to say to the situation he’d walked into. It seemed the ball was in Cassandra’s court. 

“Okay, okay…” Cassandra put her hands up in surrender, adopting a diplomatic air. “Let’s say you’re right. I don’t think you are, but i’ll let it go for now. So, the current you that we know is good. Let’s say that’s because of your father, that your father succeeded.” She started to say. 

“Obviously.” Ezekiel said firmly.

“...our Ezekiel does what he pleases. He eats when he wants, says what he wants, does what he wants. If we go with how you think things happened, that means your father decided he was good enough to make his own decisions.” Cassandra carried on. The young version of Ezekiel glanced around the room as he followed what she was saying, lips twisting slightly in thought.

“Yes. He has...earned it. Apparently.” Ezekiel said slowly, with a slight tinge of longing. 

“Okay, let’s go with that. The you right now is still our Ezekiel. This is our time. This whole situation is just-” She gestured to his pre-teen body. “Temporary. So, in this time and place, your father would want you to eat and make your own decisions. Because soon you’ll turn back into our Ezekiel, who makes his own decisions. But we don’t know how long that’s going to take. And your father isn’t here, he’s never going to be here to give your young version of yourself the permission you think you need. So, trying to do what you always do _now_ wouldn’t be good, because you’d just be harming your good, future self. Which would be bad. So, in this circumstance…” Cassandra pointed to the pizza. “You’re father would want you to do the right thing, correct?” 

The young boy stared at her, blinking as he wrapped his head around her logic. Even Jake was slightly confused. 

For a long while Ezekiel seemed to be processing her suggestion, before his eyes finally flicked over to the pizza. He seemed to give into her justification. 

“I guess...this is something he’d never be able to imagine.” The boy said slowly. Cassandra and Jake glanced at each other, Cassandra sagging slightly in her small victory. Jake smiled widely, and started forward again.

“I got your favorite.” He announced, setting the pizza boxes down. Ezekiel stared at them, eyes hungry but somehow still afraid. But he dared to move forward, around the table, and slowly reach to open the box on top. His hand froze in midair, almost there. It trembled. His eyes flicked up to Jake, searching for some answer. Some form of certainty that this really was alright. Cassandra could practically see Jake’s heart rip itself to pieces at the overwhelming sadness the boy’s reluctance wrought. Jake smiled at him wider, nodding towards the box.

“It won’t bite, I promise.” The art historian assured him. “And neither will we.”

Ezekiel swallowed that visibly, and nodded, returning his full attention to the pizza box as he slowly opened it. The cheesy, warm pizza came into clear view, a slight amount of grease glistening on it’s surface. The smell must have risen up and hit Ezekiel full on, because his eyes fluttered slightly and he breathed in it’s aroma. Jake and Cassandra watched as the boy stared down at the food with nearly as much amazement as he’d stared at the magic they’d shown him. 

Ezekiel reached in and pulled a piece away, watching as the cheese stretched before breaking. He lifted it to his mouth, looking excited now, before he froze again. He glanced over at Cassandra. Then he took a slow bite. It was a hesitant bite at first, but as soon as the food hit his tongue his eyes closed and his face laxed. He chewed it quickly, with fever, starting to grin as he made a sound of approval. Cassandra put a hand over her mouth - even with the weight of the situation, little Ezekiel was just so _cute_! It played her heart like a harp to watch him enjoy something that had been forbidden to him for the first time.

Ezekiel’s eyes opened, and they had a glint in them, a glint of a hunger awoken. He started to eat the pizza faster, making more pleased noises, and then grinned a the two of them as he made a little jump of happiness.

“This is great!” He exclaimed happily, and giggled. Jake bit his knuckle, face splitting open. He had giggled- the boy had actually giggled. It was the cutest thing either of them had ever heard, hands down. Adult Ezekiel never giggled. Snickered yes, maybe even chortled. But never _giggled_! Cassandra was suddenly very, very happy she had photogenic sensory memory, because she never ever wanted to forget the sound of that giggle. It sounded like the brightest yellow, like a warm day at the beach.

He took a few more rapid bites until his piece was gone, then dove forward to grab another. Jake laughed and grabbed two more pieces, offering one to Cassandra. She moved closer to him and grabbed it with a thankful smile, and they turned to watch their young friend devour pizza with the biggest smile they’d seen the young version of him adorn. They, too, were smiling. The boy’s excitement was an infectious as his misery could be. 

“No wonder this is my favorite, this is the best thing i’ve ever eaten!” Ezekiel gushed, pizza sauce smeared on the corner of his mouth and a newfound brightness in his eyes. They all took seats around the table, and Ezekiel sat one chair away from them, as opposed to across the room. 

A while later, Jenkins finally reappeared. Cassandra had a feeling he’d been avoiding the situation. He walked across the Annex, carrying a box of files to his work station. Ezekiel tensed up all over again. 

“Good to see you’re awake. Mr. Jones.” Jenkins called calmly as he started to sort through things. Ezekiel looked to Jake and Cassandra for an explanation. Cassandra gave Ezekiel a smile to assure him everything was still fine.

“That’s Mr.Jenkins. He works with us here. Don’t worry, he won’t hurt you either. He’s a good guy, even if he’s a little grouchy sometimes.” Cassandra said, earning a glance from the immortal man. Jake leaned closer to Ezekiel as he went to add on.

“He’s the caretaker here, and he’s been here longer than any of us. Wanna know why?” Jake prompted, as if it was some enticing piece of information. Ezekiel tilted his head a little bit, glancing towards the man across the room, before nodding.

“Because he’s really immortal.” Jake said, with an air of excitement. Jenkins sighed. 

“Did you really have to tell him that?” 

“Immortal? How?” The young boy asked, eyes wide in amazement as he turned to look Jenkins up and down in a new light. Jenkins rolled his eyes.

“Through a series of unfortunate events, i’ll leave it at that.” 

“He’s the Knight of the Round Table, Galahad. But he prefers to be called Jenkins.” Cassandra said. Jenkins huffed, but Ezekiel no longer looked afraid. He looked absolutely amazed. 

“You’re from _Camelot?_ ” Ezekiel whispered in absolute awe. Jenkins slammed one of his books down, causing everyone to flinch, not just Ezekiel.

“When did we decide it was alright to discuss this, hmmm?” Jenkins demanded in exasperation. Ezekiel now had his head bowed and his shoulders shrunken in, to make himself as small as possible in his chair. Cassandra’s head whipped around to lock eyes with Jenkins, and now it was the caretaker’s turn to become very, very afraid. 

“Jenkins, can I speak to you outside for a minute?” Cassandra asked, in a sweet voice with an edge ready to cut. Jenkins blinked, looking around the room for an answer as to what had just happened. He silently followed Ms. Cillian out the door to the corridor outside the Annex, so that only the light of the windows cast any light on their situation. 

“Ms. Cillian, I-” The immortal began to say, but the young redhead cut him off.

“He’s been abused.” She stated.

“What?” Jenkins asked, taken aback.

“He’s been abused, badly. Very very badly. Didn’t you look at him?” She asked. Jenkins had been rather distracted, by choice. He turned his head to look back into the Annex, watching as Jake was trying (and failing) to get Ezekiel to look back up at him. The boy was indeed covered in bruises, a development since Jenkins had last seen his young form.

“Of course. The temporal anomaly shifted him to his physical state at an exact point.” Jenkins said, nodding. Then he looked back to the young woman standing before him with all the loving fury of the sun. Yet sadness seemed to permeate her to most. 

“I...did not intend to scare him.” Jenkins apologized.

“We only just got him to eat.” Cassandra sighed in exhaustion. This day felt like it was draining the life out of her. Not that she had much to take.

“What do you mean? Even in an apprehensive situation, Mr. Jones has a stomach that could go for miles.” Jenkins recalled.

“He won’t do anything unless his father gives him permission, he wouldn’t eat. You wouldn’t believe how ridiculous it was to convince him it’s alright. Now, we’ve finally got him getting a little comfortable. And he’s very fascinated by all this magic. I told him that to get him to trust you, not to throw you under an inconvenient bus.” Cassandra explained. Jenkins nodded, and turned his head to look at the boy again.

“I’ve seen such things before.” Jenkins said lowly. 

“You have?” She inquired.

“You live as long as I, and you are witness to every atrocity man can conceive, my dear. I always suspected our youngest companion had darkness to compliment his rather overbearing insistence to travel and act light. There are many, many twisted men who hunger for control. And they find it in a myriad of ways, depending on their circumstances. A father who has a child only to take out all their own insecurities on it - a rather common, and tragic pattern.” Jenkins sighed, words echoing through centuries. Cassandra looked through the window as well.

“I wish I could go back in time and take him away before that man could do anything to him. He really thinks he deserves it, with his whole heart. How can a child think something like that?” She asked softly. Jenkins gave a bitter smile.

“Remarkably easily. Shall we go back in? I believe I owe our young friend an apology. And...perhaps a tale or two, from the past.” Jenkins suggested, straightening his jacket. Cassandra’s eyes widened in excitement, and she led the way with a skip in her walk as they re-entered the Library. Jake’s eyes were drawn to them, but Ezekiel had yet to move. 

“Ah, Mr. Jones. I… do apologize for my behavior. I do not always react as I should, when discussing the past. Painful things are hard to talk about, I’m sure you understand.” Jenkins said, coming to sit across the table from them. Cassandra retook her seat next to Jake, offering the art historian a smile to tell him she’d taken care of it. 

Ezekiel’s gaze finally moved, flicking to look at the caretaker out of the corner of his eye. Jenkins smiled, folding his hands as he did.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” Ezekiel muttered. Jenkins raised an eyebrow.

“It would be rather counterproductive for someone who works at the Library to never act upon the curiosity that got them here in the first place. You have every right to ask about something as wondrous as that. Besides...as painful as the past can be, it was still wondrous, let me tell you.” Jenkins cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter. “I imagine, of course, you want to hear about Arthur.” 

This brought the boy’s head back up, and his eyes wide again, the eager spark starting to resurface. 

And that was how they sat for a while, all enraptured as Jenkins told stories of his fondest memories of his fellow knights. Some funny, some courageous. By the end of the first one Ezekiel had relaxed again, and had his chin perched on his hands, his attention entirely devoted to Jenkins. He drank up every story with an adorable appetite, and Jake suddenly felt very, very sure why he’d been chosen to be a Librarian even if he didn’t like to read. He held that same wonder, that same hunger as the rest of them. Why did he hide it behind apathy in his adulthood, Jake could imagine a few answers to.


	4. Nightmares

They spent the rest of the day recounting various stories - not only Jenkins’, but many of the rest of the Librarian’s as well. His eyes lit up at stories about them, with a warm light of glee and amazement. He seemed to grow more and more content, swept away in tales of magic, camelot, and fictional characters come to life. Whenever they mentioned his own awesome achievements, however, he grew uncertain and bashful, ducking or shaking his head in disbelief. This prompted them to tell more and more great things about their Ezekiel Jones, and soon the young boy grew more curious, drinking up the information with a tentative thirst. Like an animal desperate for water, but afraid of being punished for drinking. A forbidden elixir, far too sweet to be true. 

Soon, darkness came, and Jake frowned down at his watch.

“Do you still have those cots, Jenkins?” He asked.

“Oh, it is about bedtime, isn't it?” Cassandra noted.

“Indeed I do sir, I'll go get them.” Jenkins replied, vanishing away to do just that.

“You can sleep in the couch we brought in if you’d find it more comfortable.” Cassandra suggested, jerking her thumb towards the piece of temporary furniture across the Annex. Ezekiel glanced towards it. 

“Uh...alright.” He said apprehensively. He wrapped his arms a little tighter around himself. 

“Is something wrong?” Cassandra asked. Ezekiel glanced at her with those big brown eyes, and then looked down at the floor. He shook his head.

“No. You said my father isn’t here and I have to make my own choices. It’s...okay if I go to sleep.” He said. It sounded like he was telling this to himself, however. Cassandra turned her head to find Jake’s expression mirroring her own. He had to be given permission to _sleep_? 

Cassandra turned to give a nod and a smile to the boy. “Right. Everything will be alright if you got to sleep, I promise. And in the morning, Jake will make us breakfast because he’s a really good cook.” She said with a spark of excitement. Ezekiel looked over at Jake, and Jake shook his head in modest embarrassment.

“I’m not _that_ good. I can’t bake.” He muttered.

“You don’t need to, we’ve got Ezekiel for that.” She said.

“You do?” The young boy asked in confusion. She turned back to him

“Yeah, you’re a really really good baker. The birthday cake you made Eve almost made her cry, but I don’t think she’ll ever admit it.” Cassandra informed him. 

“Who’s Eve?” He asked. Cassandra blinked.

“Oh, I guess we’ve been so caught up, we haven’t mentioned them yet. Eve is our Guardian. She’s whom the Library chose to protect us, and keep us safe. She’s a badass, and she cares about all of us a lot. But I think she’s protective of you especially. You’re the youngest, even when your-” She gestured to him. “Your normal age.” 

Ezekiel took those facts in with a grain of salt. “If she’s supposed to protect all of us, why isn’t she here now? This seems like a pretty big vulnerability.” He said, gesturing to himself as she had. 

“Well, her and Flynn had to go and get this artifact from these bad people, and Flynn has a tendency to get himself in trouble so she had to go with him, and trusted us to take care of you. Flynn’s the other Librarian, he’s the one who’s been the Librarian the longest. You and him don’t really get along, but that’s largely because you’re so similar. They should be back anytime.” She told him. 

“Oh.” Ezekiel said, absorbing that information with a blink. There was a beat of silence. “So, I….bake?” He asked, referring back to the start of his inquiry. Cassandra grinned.

“Yes, you do. You made me cookies just the other day while I was waiting for some test results over some mineral deposits. They were to die for.” She told him. Jake grinned, recalling the image of Ezekiel in an apron. It never got old. 

The young boy looked down at his lap, looking somewhat troubled, but contemplative. “My mother liked to bake.” 

Cassandra’s heart beat cold, and Jake looked over, smile slipping away. 

“...liked to?” Jake prompted hesitantly. Young Ezekiel shrugged, a sad look crossing over his features.

“She’s gone now. But she used to make chocolate cake from scratch. My father liked to joke it was better than the drugs he sold.” He said, tone distant in the act of recalling something bittersweet beyond measure. 

This silence was awkward at best. “She sounds nice.” Cassandra offered. 

“She was. Too nice for her own good. She tried to help everyone. She thought she could fix him, fix all of them. But she was an idiot. You have to help yourself.” Ezekiel said, voice turning bitter as he wrapped his arms around himself and grimaced at the ground. His words were tinged with anger. Anger at a woman who tried to hard to do the right thing by every single person, only to end up leaving her son alone. 

Jake felt a lump in his throat form, as those very same words echoed in Ezekiel’s much older voice. 

“We should get to bed, it’s been a long day.” Cassandra suggested, at a loss of what else to say. 

Jenkins soon returned, and they set up the cots and the couch with bedding. Everyone else at the library had spare clothes and such at the Library, so changing into more comfortable sleeping attire was a breeze for them. Hunting down some smaller clothes proved a mission for Jake, but he eventually found a room full of clothes that Jenkins guaranteed weren't’ harmful, and grabbed some comfortable things for the young version of Ezekiel. Once everything was settled, Jenkins disappeared to his own living quarters after bidding them good night. 

“Good night! Don’t be afraid to wake us if you need anything!” Cassandra assured the boy, after they had all laid down. Young Ezekiel did not answer in any other way then curled against the couch and turning his back on them. Cassandra laid on her side in the direction of Jake’s cot next to her, tucking her hands under her head. Jake was lying flat on his back. With a yawn, he laced his hands together and rested them behind his head, spreading out his arms. Cassandra opened her mouth, eager to talk, but then hesitating. The young boy was still in the room, and still awake. And he was the subject of the words eager to escape her thoughts. An idea occured to her.

She lifted her hand, and tapped her nail against the frame of the cot. Three short, a pause, one short, a long, two shorts, a pause.... Jake’s head quickly turned towards her, and she knew he was picking up what she was putting down. 

Slowly in morse code she spelled out _He is so cute_ , hoping the exclamation would be implied by her expression. 

Jake reached a hand to gently tap a reply against the frame of his own cot. _I know._

A darkness tinged her affection, and he taps where lighter with hesitant remorse. _It’s so sad, I wish we could save him._

Jake looked at her, and then his eyes flicked over her shoulder to the couch across the room. _We can’t. It’s already happened._

Cassandra gave a slight sigh. Her next taps where more insistent. _Time travel?_ She offered.

Jake huffed, and looked back at the ceiling. _We both know that’s a bad idea._

The lights above them in the annex, as if aware they were trying sleep, started to dim. Cassandra looked up at the ceiling in surprise for a moment. Then she settled back down, looking again to the art historian at her side. She tapped another message, but this one was not meant for jake.

 _Good night, Ray._

Silence ruled from there on out. If Ezekiel found their tapping strange, he did not mention it. And if Ezekiel knew morse code, he did not mention it. He just squeezed his eyes tighter and tried to force himself to let the darkness come, even without his father’s permission. Sleeping without his father telling him he could was a very very bad thing to do, but, as the others had said…his father was not here. 

Whether that was a good or a bad thing, he could not for the life of him decide. 

\-------------

Jake woke with a start, sitting up in his cot and looking all around. For a moment he was confused that he wasn’t in his room, but then he remembered - Ezekiel, the incident, the Annex. Then he squinted around the Annex, trying to make out what had woken him up through the dimmed light. Cassandra was still snoozing away - she was a very heavy sleeper, he’d found out on a few of their first missions. He tended to wake up at the drop of a pin, and Ezekiel was rather in between, sleeping at a normal level. But he seemed to be able to go longer than the rest of them without sleep, which was suddenly beginning to make sense.

Another noise rang out, and Jake’s attention was drawn to his de-aged friend. The blanket covered mound on the couch was moving, twisting. Whimpering noises echoed out into the Annex every once and awhile. Jake threw off his blankets and stood up, moving around Cassandra to approach the couch. 

“Ezekiel?” He asked, reaching out to touch what he assumed was a shoulder. The minute he did, the young boy shot away from him as if he’d been burned. The blankets tangled around him as he scrambled away, pushing himself practically on top of the top half of the coach. His eyes were wide as the full moon, and his chest was heaving. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He exclaimed, voice panicked. His eyes held a haze in them, as if he were still caught in the realm of less than pleasant dreams. Jake moved forward on instinct, reaching out a hand to try and calm him down. He should have thought that through, however, because Ezekiel became even more panicked and flailed- and then began to teeter back off the edge of the piece of furniture with a shout. Jake cursed and lunged to grab him by the front of the shirt, pulling him back from the impending tumble. But Jake grabbing on forcefully, even for a good reason, only served to terrify the boy more. He tore himself away from Jake, curling up in the corner of the couch and wrapping his arms around himself. He started to shake his head, whole body trembling.

“Don’t touch me, no, I don’t want you to touch me, don’t touch me, don’t touch me….” He started to exclaim, repeating himself in desperation. 

Behind them, despite Ezekiel’s shouting, Cassandra snored on.

“It’s okay, Ezekiel, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not going to touch you, i’m sorry.” Jake said, trying to make his voice as soothing as possible as he slowly backed up a little bit. 

Ezekiel just shook his head more, squeezing his eyes shut. He started to move his hands up and down his arms, rapidly, as if trying to rub away something. Or maybe trying to warm himself up? Comfort himself?

“I don’t want to, I don’t want to, I don’t want to….” Ezekiel muttered, quieter, in more of a fearful whimper to himself. He kept whimpering it as Jake stood there, confused, and unsure what to do. It was clear this was far more than the remnants of a nightmare, seemed some full blown sort of attack. Jake swallowed past a lump in his throat, trying to push away his own heartache at the situation. He crouched down, leaned against the couch cushions, looking up at him from a downward angle. He hoped it would make him seem less threatening. 

“Ezekiel, look at me.” He begged. Ezekiel shrank further into himself, tears leaking out from his clenched eyes. 

“Ezekiel, please, it’s okay. I’m not going to touch you. I’m sorry I did, I was trying to help you.” Jake apologized. He talked a little louder next. “Please, Ezekiel, it’s okay, it’s okay…” He started to repeat the sentiment in a similar desperation, hoping it would echo it’s way past Ezekiel’s own mantra of fear.

It seemed to work, eventually. Ezekiel slowly stopped shaking his head. He eventually stopped his mantra, taking in deep breaths instead. Jake continued his own repetition, but he let it grow softer, gentler. More soothing than desperate. 

After what seemed like an eternity, Ezekiel opened his eyes. They were full of fear, still. But also an apprehensive embarrassment.

“I’m sorry…” He said softly, not looking Jake in the eyes. Jake’s heart twisted. He glanced towards Cassandra - still asleep. 

“Don’t be sorry. You haven’t done anything wrong. It was just a bad dream. It’s not wrong to be afraid.” Jake assured him, turning back to the boy and tilting up a supportive smile. He nodded, finally shifting his gaze to make eye contact with Jake. He was still shrunken into the corner of the couch. 

“Do you…” Jake swallowed. “Wanna, uh, talk about it? I’m a great listener, I hear.” Jake offered, trying to appear open and trustworthy. Ezekiel shook his head once more. Jake nodded. He supposed some things never changed. 

“I’m sorry I woke you up.” Ezekiel murmured. It was Jake’s turn to shake his head.

“Don’t be, it’s alright.”


	5. Shatter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezekiel does not react well to Eve and Flynn's return, and Jake begins to realize just how dark his childhood really was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS for implied past non con. Very implied, at the current moment in time.

Once Cassandra finally woke up, Jake went about making them breakfast in the kitchens. Cassandra worked on a bit of reading for some research she was doing, Jenkins went off to work on his experiments, and the young version of the Australian thief perched himself on a stool in the kitchen. He watched Jake cook with veiled interest in his eyes.

The Library had a few kitchens, but this one was the most modern. Random ingredients constantly just appeared in the shelves, while others disappeared with no warning. It didn't appear to have a pattern to it, but Jake liked the challenge. Kept him on his toes. In a chef’s sense, one would say. He had always enjoyed cooking. It was an art into its own. The most artistic cooking of all was that of desserts, so Jake was always frustrated with his inadequacy with baking. But he could pull off one mean omelet. 

Once he finished making them all omelets, he called them all into the Annex again to eat. They talked about some more movies that had come out recently, as movies where one of the only things Ezekiel had no problem at all talking about. 

They were almost done with their relaxed, tensionless meal, when the Back Door lit up and a loud noise burst out. The doors flew open, two figures stumbling through the glowing light. Jenkins, Jake and Cassandra didn’t move much, merely turning their heads in casual interest. It didn’t occur to them that their young counterpart of Ezekiel had no idea what was happening, and practically flew out of his seat in terror. 

Eve and Flynn slowed down and caught their breath, straightening out as the doors shut. Eve had her gun drawn, Flynn was holding a sword and a glass statuette, and they were both covered in dirt. 

“Hey gu-” Flynn started to say, but his voice died off, as nobody was looking at him. They had all turned in concern to watch young Ezekiel fly out of the room. Jake and Cassandra stood, practically tripping over themselves.

“Ezekiel! Wait, it’s okay!” Cassandra called, and they hurried after him. Flynn and Eve blinked at each other, and then looked at Jenkins for an answer. Jenkins’ expression was solemn. The caretaker stood, collecting the plates from the table.

“I suggest you be very non threatening around the boy. No sudden movements. Or loud noises. Or anger.” Jenkins told them matter of factly, before turning and heading the other way. 

Eve looked to Flynn. “What? He’s a scaredy cat? I can’t imagine that.” 

 

Flynn did not look so confused. He looked grim, and walked to slide the sword into the umbrella holder they used to hold such things.

“I can. It’s written all over him.” Flynn informed her. Eve tucked her gun back into her holster, even more confused.

“What do you mean?” She asked. Flynn pursed his lips as he held up the glass artifact, peering at the way the light shone through it.

“Abuse is very easy to pick up on people.” He said, as if it were obvious. Eve blinked at him.

“What are you talking about? Why wouldn’t you say anything?” She asked.

“I already made the blunder with Cassandra’s tumor! It’s not _my_ place. Why don’t you go see him and the others, while I file this away? Another job well done, Guardian.” He said, turning to head through the doors into the main Library. She watched him go, feeling like she was suddenly an outsider on a secret everyone else knew. 

She headed to find the others, scrubbing dirt off her as she did. She found them at the corner of the corridor, the young version of Ezekiel with his arms crossed, back against the wall while Jake and Cassandra talked in soothing tones to him.

“...they’re the people we told you about, Eve and Flynn, they’re our friends! They won’t hurt you.” Jake was explaining.

“I don’t-” Ezekiel started to say in a trembling, distrusting tone. But then Eve approached, and his eyes widened, and his words cut off. Something in the way she carried himself and the way she walked, it terrified him even further. He moved to hide behind Jake before he realized what he was doing, reaching out to grab onto the back of Jake’s shirt. Jake and Cassandra turned to look between Ezekiel and Eve, giving Eve sympathetic looks. Jake’s heart twisted a little, that Ezekiel felt safest close to him. 

Eve stopped her approach, and tried to let some of the authority leave her stance. It was so ingrained she often forgot. Her gut flopped slightly as she spotted the bruises covering the young boy, and the mistrust in his eyes.

“What happened? Why is he all banged up?” She asked Cassandra, protective hackles rising.

“It wasn’t us! When the spell finished, well - “ Jake seemed to have a hard time gathering words to explain it.

“It reverted him to an exact point in the timeline, Eve. Not just a general state of that age. If he had bruises when he was thirteen on a certain day, he has them now.” Cassandra jumped in. Understanding dawned on the Guardian, coupled with the situation and Flynn’s words. Her heart broke a little. But then she gathered herself, and offered the gentlest smile to the boy she could muster. 

“Hi. I’m Eve, I’m your Guardian. I promise, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m sorry we scared you.” She said, in a friendly tone. The boy’s eyes narrowed suspiciously at her, flicking up and down.

“You’re a cop!” He said, in way of an accusation. Eve blinked. 

“Uh, sort of. I’m in the military. Well, I was. NATO.” She explained. His unhappy frown increased. 

“What the hell is that?” He asked. Eve blinked.

“I fought terrorists. And now, I fight...magical terrorists. With you! You’re very good at what you do, you know.” She added, hoping praise would help. From the even more upset look she got from the boy, and the wince she got from Cassandra, she could tell praise was in fact the wrong way to go. 

Everyone could tell this situation wasn’t going well. Jake cleared his throat. 

“Hey, Ezekiel, you want to come help me sort through some old wizard’s notes on narrative magic?” Jake offered, turning to smile at the boy. Ezekiel nodded, recognizing an escape route. He let go of Jake’s shirt, and took his hand instead. Jake hurried to lead him away, distracting him with a discussion on the wizard whose notes he was looking into. 

Eve and Cassandra watched them go. Eve turned to Cassandra, face falling into heartbreak. 

“Who…?” Eve asked softly. Cassandra folded her hands.

“His dad. And his dad’s friends. God, Eve, you should have seen it. He wouldn’t eat, he wouldn’t sleep, until I convinced him he didn’t need permission.” Cassandra whispered sadly. Eve stared at her.

“ _Permission_?” Eve asked in disbelief. Since when had Ezekiel Jones ever needed permission? 

Cassandra sighed, heading back down the hall. Eve walked alongside her, weighed down upon by the weight of what they now knew.

\------------

Ezekiel sat in the computer chair of his older self’s part of the room, admiring the technology and the posters on the wall. He spun around in the chair, as Jake squinted down at old scrolls.

“Everyone seems really sad.” He said, into the empty air. Jake glanced up.

“They are.” He replied.

“Why? I told you, obviously, the me you know is because my dad was right.” Ezekiel said sullenly. Jake returned his gaze to the notes, clenching his jaw.

“The world is...often more complicated than that.” He said. Ezekiel did not reply. A heavy silence fell, and Jake focused on what he was doing. It seemed like young Ezekiel needed a break. And maybe some time to think.

As the silence wore on, it was only natural for the young boy to be anxious, and bored. He got out of the chair and moved around the room, inspecting every little thing. Soon, he moved on from his own corner off the room, to the setup Jake had, peering at the artifacts he had around on his tables. Jake kept an eye on him out of the corner of his vision, not making any move to reproach his movements. 

That was, until, his peripheral vision showed Ezekiel’s hand reaching towards a very, very fragile greek vase. Jake’s head rose, and his eyes widened.

“Don’t-” He started to say, but it was too late. The vase wobbled, as it was half broken and unstable. Ezekiel jumped back at Jake’s exclamation, and they both watched as the vase teetered over the edge of the counter and shattered. 

“God damnit!” Jake exclaimed, throwing down his notes with a miserable huff. That had been one of his favorite things he’d ever found on a mission - it hadn’t been magical, but it had been rare and beautiful. And now it was in shards on the ground.

The young boy went pale, staring down at the shards on the ground in horror and guilt for a moment, before he practically dropped to the ground. He reached to start sweeping the shards into a pile, yammering apologies in a high pitched voice. 

“I’m sorry, i’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, i’ll clean it up, i’m sorry-” He said rapidly, and Jake moved around the table.

“Ezekiel, cut it out, just - just stop touching it, you’ll hurt yourself-” He tried to say, but the boy didn’t listen, and before Jake could reach him he yelped as his palm sliced open. But then he reached out again, to keep going.

“Ezekiel, _stop!_ ” Jake found himself practically shouting. The volume of his exclamation made the boy flinch violently, but he finally stopped. His eyes opened up to stare at Jake in fear and horror, frozen mid pose. Jake sighed. He probably shouldn’t have yelled, now the boy was practically shaking like a leaf.

But before Jake could apologize or try to calm him, Ezekiel shot up, and started to move towards Jake by awkwardly crawling forward on his knees. His wide eyes held a terrible desperation, and blood was dripping from his hand.

“I’m sorry, i’m sorry, please don’t be mad. I’ll fix it, i’ll make it up to you, I can make it up to you!” Ezekiel said fervently, and his uncut hand reached to grab onto Jake’s thigh. Jake was shocked for a moment, and then the boy’s hand moved farther up his thigh as he moved closer, reciting the sentiment, “I can make it up to you, i’m sorry, I’ll make it up…”

“Jesus Christ!” Jake exclaimed with a start, reaching to grab Ezekiel’s hand and push it away. The boy flinched again, and froze in place once more as Jake backed away from him slowly. As Jake realized what Ezekiel’s _thirteen year old_ self had tried to do, he felt like his head was about to explode. All sorts of feelings bubbled up in him, but Jake swallowed them down. The last thing he needed was to freak out on him, make him think he’d done something wrong, scare him more. 

Jake took a deep breath, and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “Ezekiel,” He said, trying to keep his voice steady. “The vase isn’t a big deal, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m not mad. I just didn’t want you to hurt yourself. You don’t have to - ” Jake’s voice cracked a little, and he forced a horribly tight smile. “- _make anything up_ , or, whatever. Okay?” 

Ezekiel looked confused. “But-” 

“No buts! Everything is fine! I mean, except your hand. How about - how ‘bout you go see Cassandra, and get her to fix that up for you? I’ll clean this up, and then we can uh, uh...go watch a movie or something, alright?” Jake offered, gesturing towards the door. Ezekiel seemed to hesitate, before he ducked his head. He stood up and hurried out the door, shoulders hunched over. Jake watched him go, feeling like the world had fallen out from under his feet. He turned away and reached a hand to lean against the table, suddenly nauseous. Mental images were playing out in his head that made the urge to vomit appealing, to say the least. 

His mind rewound to the incident with Mabel, and the body snatching. With how uncharacteristically _angry_ Ezekiel had been, with those people...taking control of someone else’s body against their will. 

Jake sat back down and put his head in his hands, and the shards lay forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yikes yikes yikes


	6. Shut Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when things come to a head, the entire experience is cut short, leaving everyone's heads spinning without an ounce of emotional closure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a soundtrack for this series:  
> http://8tracks.com/snorkletuckington/you-don-t-know-what-it-s-like-for-someone-else-to-own-you
> 
> This series will consist of another two works, this being the shortest one. So here's the short last, abrupt feeling end to this, but don't worry - you're supposed to feel this way.

Ezekiel sat nervously as Cassandra bandaged his hand, watching her and trying his best not to flinch. Cassandra looked at him sadly. The boy was so pale, and he looked sick to his stomach.

“He’s not mad at you, don’t worry. He’s really not. You didn’t do anything wrong.” She assured him. 

“Yes, I did. He told me not to touch it and I broke it. He told me not to clean it up and I only hurt myself and made it worse. And then he wouldn’t even let me make it up! That means whatever happens is going to be so much worse…” Ezekiel lamented, breathing quickly. Cassandra reached out and wrapped an arm gently around him, running her hand through his hair.

“Calm down, it’s alright. Nothing bad is going to happen.” She assured him soothingly, but he only tensed more in her arms. He balled his hands into fists, despite the newly bandaged cut.

“No, it’s not! It’s not alright! It’s going to be like the games and I hate them!” Ezekiel said, in increasing distress, tears starting to prick his eyes.

“What games, honey?” Cassandra asked, in fear, mind suddenly racing with memories of the video game loop. Did he somehow remember that?

“My father, he always s-says we’re going to play a game when I do something wrong so I can get better, and I hate them, I always lose…” The young boy took a deep, hitching breath, reaching to scrub his eyes. “I always lose.” 

Cassandra stared at them, horrified at what those “games” must entail to get this sort of reaction. Her mind settled on one specific memory, the smell of dust after rain, as she stared across the blue oblivion at her friend’s smiling face. _Ezekiel Jones doesn’t lose._

“Ezekiel, there’s no games here. Nothing bad is going to happen, I promise.” Cassandra assured him once again. He just crossed his arms and shook his head. 

\------------------

Jake sat at that table for what felt like forever, barely able to breath under the weight of what he had learned. Eventually caught his breath, and finished cleaning up the mess. Then he decided he should probably go talk to Ezekiel - what he was going to say, he had no idea. God, this was a mess. 

He headed down the halls, dragging his feet as he considered what he was going to tell the boy. Should he confront him about what had happened? Or let it go, and deal with it later? Maybe deal with it never. After all, it was in the past. Even if it didn’t feel like it. Ezekiel had probably moved past it, he sure seemed to have his life handled. He didn’t lie, after all. Then again, he didn’t get many chances to lie, since he rarely talked about things that mattered. 

He was just outside the Annex when Cassandra came barreling out at the speed of light. She grabbed his arm, dragging him away from the door.

“What the hell, Cassie?” Jake said, as he regained his balance.

“Don’t go in there. Not right now. He’s terrified you’re going to do something to him, and I just convinced him to take a nap, and got Flynn and Eve to go out on a date to give him some time.” She told him sadly. Jake swallowed, glancing towards the glow of the glass. 

“He’ll calm down in the morning, don’t you worry. He’s just scared.” She assured him. He looked back to her, edge to his gaze. 

“What...did he tell you?” Jake asked. Cassandra frowned. 

“That you told him not to touch something, he broke it by accident, and cut himself trying to clean it up, and you were upset. But I know you were probably just trying to get him to calm down.” Cassandra explained. 

“Nothing else?” He asked.

“Was there anything else?” She asked. He shook his head, sticking his hands in his pockets. He knew grown Ezekiel would probably erase him from the face of the earth if he let the other’s know what he now knew. He had to act like he wasn’t concerned about anything extraordinary. 

“Nothing much. Thanks for taking care of him. I hope he isn’t still scared of me when he wakes up.” Jake sighed.

“It’ll all work out, i’m sure.” She said, laying a hand on his shoulder. He felt cold, under her soft, warm hand. 

“How long is this going to last, Cassie?” He asked, lowly, concern heavily weighing down each syllable. Her head tilted with it’s own emotional weight, which then pulled down at the corners of her mouth.

“I don’t know. Anywhere from a few days to a few weeks. But we’ll get through it. And then, when he’s back, we’ll-” She said, only to be cut off by a noise. A loud, deep voice shouted _what the fuck_ from inside the Annex. They both turned to stare back at the direction of the noise, then whipped to look at each other with wide eyes. 

“Or now.” Cassandra said bluntly, and they both rushed into the Annex, practically tripping over each other. 

Just as they’d suspected, sitting on the couch was a very adult, very disorientated looking Ezekiel Jones. He was sitting with his head in his hands, groaning, before he slowly lifted his head to squint at each other.

“What the hell, guys? Did I get bashed over the head with a fucking train?” He asked.

“Language!” Cassandra reprimanded, before she could stop herself. Then she flushed a little, and Ezekiel narrowed his eyes even more.

“What?” He asked. Then Ezekiel’s eyes moved from her, to Jake. Jake, this whole time, had only been able to stare at the thief. 

“You alright there, Cowboy? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Oh, shit, did I get possessed?” He asked, standing up suddenly, alarmed. 

“You don’t remember.” Cassandra realized.

“Remember what?” Ezekiel asked. Jake whipped to stare at Cassandra, who looked as if she didn’t know how to feel about the world as a whole.

“He doesn’t? Not - nothing?” Jake asked. She nodded.

“Why would he? His experience as a child was entirely removed, it was a hiccup in time, because we kept him here. If he had actually traveled, he would remember.” Cassandra explained. Jake frowned more, even more confused than ever.

“Time travel? What? What the hell happened?” Ezekiel demanded, a little louder this time. Jake and Cassandra looked at each other helplessly, realizing they were not prepared to tell Ezekiel they had now seen him at his weakest, and most vulnerable state. This was not going to go over well.

\-------------

“So I was a kid again?” Ezekiel asked slowly, once they _(“they” meaning mostly Cassandra)_ finished explaining the magical science behind the events. 

“Well, yeah. Pre-teens. About thirteen, I think.” Jake told him. Both Jake and Cassandra watched Ezekiel’s expression carefully. They knew he was going to know what that meant.

Sure enough, Ezekiel’s face fell, and he looked slightly horrified. He seemed to take a moment to wrap his head around it.

“So I was in the body of my kid self? But...it was still me, right?” He asked, a hint of desperation to his voice. Cassandra grimaced, and Jake looked down at his shoes.

“No. It was all thirteen year old you. Body, mind...bruises.” She said, wringing her hands awkwardly. Ezekiel’s eyes widened momentarily, before he spun away from them with a violent jolt, cursing. 

“This is just _perfect._ ” He burst out, back to them as pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Ezekiel, it’s alright! There’s nothing to be ashamed of-” Cassandra started to say empathetically, stepping towards him. But then he spun around again, causing her to freeze in place.

“I know it’s alright. There’s nothing to talk about. Thanks for not letting me disappear from the timeline, i’m going to go get something to eat, and we’ll never talk about this ever!” Ezekiel exclaimed, with volume to his voice and a slightly forced smile. He strode easily past them, towards the back door, pulling out his phone.

“Ezekiel, you don’t have to just-” Jake started to call, but he was already gone. Jake and Cassandra stood in the silent Annex for a while, letting the echoes of tension ring themselves out.

“That went well.” Cassandra said softly, shoulders slumping. 

\-------------------------------

“I’m sure he’ll come around.” Eve said, on the fourth day of Ezekiel avoiding the subject like the plague, dodging them and shutting them down quicker than the speed of light.

“He won’t even let us get a word in. I’ve never seen him like this.” Cassandra sighed. 

 

“Maybe we should do something. He may very well stick to his silence on the matter until he’s in his grave. Which, in my experience, never ends well.” Jenkins commented.

“Well, what if that’s just a waste of time?” Flynn asked.

“What do you mean?” Eve asked.

“What if he’s really alright? What if it’s really behind him, and he’s dealt with, and dredging it up will only be counterproductive?” Flynn asked, waving his hand about as he spoke.

“He wouldn’t be this intense about not talking about it if it wasn’t still a big deal. It wasn’t just being beaten. The other stuff was worse, i’d have to say.” Cassandra sighed sadly. 

Jake, who had been silent himself on the matter this whole time, suddenly straightened in his seat. “What other stuff do you mean?” He asked, seriously. She blinked at him.

“The mental stuff! Making him need permission for everything, not letting him even think on his own, practically…stuff like this just doesn’t go away, even if someone’s healing from it.” Cassandra said matter of factly. Jake slowly sunk back in his seat, trying not to seem to lost in his own head. Truth be told, he felt like he had no right to press the issue. For one thing, it would by hypocritical. For another thing, he didn’t have a right. He hadn’t been a good friend, he hadn’t been a friend to Ezekiel at all. He had thought he was being a friend, even if their was anonymity. He thought it was mutual, easy, understanding. He was frustrated by the man, and he expressed that, but only because he cared. But all of this...he realized, now, that it might not be being taken that way. That guilt, coupled with what had happened in his lab, with the vase...it haunted him. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

There was no way he could ever confront Ezekiel about it. He was pretty sure Ezekiel must have looked back on that and realized what Jake had realized because of it. So, Ezekiel probably knew he knew. Which he was probably not the happiest camper about. 

The least Jake could do for Ezekiel, after everything he’d done, and everything Ezekiel had been through, was to let him have his silence. 

“I think we should leave him alone. Do our best to make it seem like we really don’t think any different. At least, for a while. Let him get back on his toes.” Jake said, finally voicing some sort of opinion. Perhaps it was the weight of emotions in his tone, or that this was the first time he’d said anything, but everyone nodded as if he made a profound amount of sense. But he only felt sick to his stomach. He wished, deep down, he could erase that part of his memory. It was never going to let him go. How was he supposed to act like everything was fine?

But he had to. For Ezekiel. That was in the past. This was the present, this was now. And Jake could only imagine how hard Ezekiel had worked to get to how independent and secure as he was now. He deserved better than to have that taken away because they couldn’t deal. However restless Jake’s nights would be, from here until eternity.


End file.
